The Gift of Death
by ithros falasson
Summary: Voldemort has cheated Death one time too many. Now Death wished to collect. But he needs help. And so he calls on two who have passed beyond and offers them a deal: help him adn they get to live again.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all related official materials are the property of J.K. Rowling.

The Gift of Death,

Nighttime in Godric's Hollow was as normal as could be expected, at least for those who paid attention to such things. The air was warm and dry, the trees stood silent, the leaves still, untouched by any wind. The people of Godric's Hollow spent their evening inside, windows open, relaxing as the heat of the finishing day slowly began to ebb away. No one paid mind, whether intentional or not, to the silent mist that began to creep its way across the village square. No one noticed as it slowly spread towards the little graveyard by the church. No one saw as it flowed over and around the headstones and grave-markers to encircle one particular headstones, just as no one saw the strange figure that stepped, seemingly out of nowhere.

Tall and cloaked all in a black, so deep that it seemed to swallow all light, hooded so completely as to have no discernible face at all . In its gaunt, emaciated hand, the figure held a tall staff, and if one could look hard enough, they would see a flickering something, sometimes there, sometimes not, extending out from the head of the staff almost two feet.

But no one could see this flickering something, nor the staff, nor the hand that held it. Nor could anyone see the tall hood form, or even the strange mist that moved with wind, even if they had gotten up, out of their comfortable chairs, left their brightly let houses, and walked right through it. Not one living person would be able to witness this scene at all, not unless the figure wished for them to.

The figure stood before the one tombstones that the mist ringed, looking down at the engravings upon tit. It raised its staff and rapped it once, twice, three times on the ground. And in a voice as cold as deep winter, as empty as the void, and as distant as a long forgotten day, the stranger spoke.

"Spirits of the Dead, Hear and Heed me. Answer the call of He Who Watches the Threshold, He Who Guards the Veil. Answer the voice the Harvester and the Pale Rider, the Watcher and the Reaper. Answer the Call of Death."

For a moment, there was silence, filled only with the chirps of crickets and noise issuing from the nearby houses. Then softly, like the sigh of the wind, a voice came back to Death, as from a great distance, or a memory. Two forms appeared, faint and indistinct, as if born from the mist itself.

"Why are we called back from the endless dream? Why are we summoned here, where we feel naught but pain and loss and sorrow?"

"I have need, thus I call. There is one who walks the world again, one who should be dead, his soul claimed."

"Why should we care, we, who have passed beyond the worries of life?"

"You know this man, for it he who hastened your passing. The one who calls himself Lord Voldemort."

The misty shapes seemed to writhe and wail, anger and sorrow ringing clearly in their voices. "We know that name and we that man! Why do you afflict us with the pain of his memory?"

Death's grip tightened on his staff. "Because I require your aid. He has cheated me. He should have died those fourteen years ago, when his curse rebounded. But he has shattered his soul and hidden the pieces from me. They lock him here, to life, and now he has regained a body, and mocks me with his triumph."

Death raised his cowled head to the wraith-like figures. "I wish for you to help me claim the scattered pieces of his soul. If you do this, I will return you to life."

the apparitions seemed to focus on the cowled head. "Why would we wish to return to the world of the living?"

"Voldemort is hunting your son."

The apparitions froze, as if time had halted.

"He survived? He lives?"

Death nodded. "He lives, and he thrives. And he is in great danger. Four times since the night of your deaths has he narrowly escaped me through luck and circumstance. Ow he has need of you, for the danger grows. Take my offer and you may be with him again. What say you?"

This time, there was no hesitation. "We accept."

Death raised his staff, arching it in a full swing. The flickering shimmer at its head solidified, realizing itself into a large blade, extending perpendicular to the staff, curving down slightly. Using on hand, Death swung through the hazy, smoky apparitions. And the earth before the stone marker erupted with a flash of purple fire.

As the light from the flame faded, it illuminated two figures lying prone on the ground. For several minutes, motionless, one began to move weakly, starting to push itself into a kneeling position. James Potter raised his head and looked around in confusion.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related official materials are the property of J.K. Rowling

Chapter 2

James looked about himself, eyes bleary, as if wakened from a deep sleep. Thoughts and images, some faint and indistinct, others clear and vibrant, cascaded through his mind in a confused tumble. Shaking his head to clear the tangled skeins of his mind, his eyes fell upon the red hair of the figure lying prone next to him, not a foot away.

"Lily!" James cried out as he crawled, hands and knees, to her side. "Lily," he whispered again, rolling her body over to see her face. "Please be alive, please!" Touching his hand to her cheek, he place forehead to hers.

"Please."

Suddenly, Lily's eyes flew open, and warmth flooded her cheek beneath his hand as she drew a ragged breath. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying, in a panicked attempt, to look at everything at once, before settling back onto James's face.

"James?"

"I'm here, Lily, I'm here."

"What's going on? Where are we?"

"I don't know Lily. Calm down."

If anything, Lily's voice seemed to rise with panic and fear.

"Where's harry? James, where's harry? Where is my baby?"

The words hit James like a sledgehammer. He started to his feet, spinning about as he took in his surroundings for the first time; The warm starry night, the soft earth, the weathered tombstones, even his and Lily's own appearances. Looking down at himself, he saw not fresh lean robes, or even some that were slightly rumpled from having been slept in. Rather, he was in ragged, moth eaten dress robes, so frayed that they were nearly falling off his body. A quick glance towards his wife showed similar results. And that was not all

"Lily, what happened to you? Your face…." But he could not bring himself to finish the sentence. Lily looked, well, older, quite a bit older, actually. As if ten years had passed when he wasn't looking. _And what about me? _James wondered.

James opened his mouth, to ask Lily if he indeed looked older than the 21 years he thought he was. Then he realized that Lily wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the headstone he had noticed earlier, and a look of mingled horror and confusion was writ upon her face.

"James," she whispered, "what's going on? What is the meaning of this?"

She pointed at the headstone. James turned and knelt down beside it, staring at the marker through his filthy spectacles.

**James Potter **

******27 March 1960 **

**31 October 1981 **

******Lily Evans Potter**

**30 January 1960**

**31 October 1981**

For a moment, James just knelt there, staring at his own tombstone, uncomprehendingly. Then he fell on his back, pushing himself away as fast as he could, 'til he was next to Lily, who had likewise recoiled from the tablet bearing their names.

"Oh, God, Lily! What's going on?! What's happening to us?"

"Oh James, I'm so scared! Where's Harry? Where is my baby?!"

"We need to leave." Staggering to his feet, James leaned down and took his wife's hand. "Come on Lily, we need to go, now." Pulling her up, James lead Lily away from the markers, and out of the cemetery. Once out in the square before the church, James spun about, trying to orient himself.

"I know this place." He whispered.

"What?" Lily asked, her face pale, her hands trembling.

"I know this place." James said again, louder. "This is Godric's Hollow. Lily, this is our home." With that, James set off at a brisk pace, pulling Lily along behind him. He knew where he was going now, a house a little further along the square from the church. As they approached the house, for a moment the couple saw it as they remembered it to be: plain, uninteresting, ordinary. A simple cottage, suitable to house a family in hiding. Then James and Lily's eyes adjusted, and they saw through the glamour that kept the Muggles away. Lily gave a soft, coarse scream that failed to carry to the neighboring houses, and then fell to her knees crying. James simply stood, stock still, staring up at the burnt ruins of what had once been his house.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all related official materials are the property of J.K. Rowling

As James stood staring at their burned out husk of a cottage, a dozen panicked thoughts raced through his mind. _What happened here? What's going on? Where's Harry?_ But even as his pounded, even as his pulse raced and his breathing became ragged, he noticed things: the blackened wood was not smoldering, there was no scent of smoke in the air. Here and there, green plant life was growing up over several places of fallen beams and crumbled stones. Slowly this began to sink into James's mind, enough for him to realize that whatever had happened to his house had happened a long time ago.

James bent down to his sobbing wife. "We need to go Lily, we can't stay here." Taking Lily's arm, he lifted her to her feet, and began to lead away. As they stumbled down the street, James glanced at a nearby house that had its porch light on and spied a muggle newspaper on the step.

"Lily, I need you to stay for a moment, okay? Here, lean against this and I'll be right back." James spoke softly in her ear as he gently set her against a nearby lamppost. Turning, he trotted over the fence separating the street from the house yard. Pulling his wand from an inside pocket, ( a small voice at the back of his mind wondered that he even had his wand, but he ignored it. ) James pointed it over the fence, towards the paper, and muttered _Accio!_ The paper rose into the air and floated swiftly into James's open hand. Stowing his wand, James moved quickly back to the street light where Lily sagged. Standing where the lamp would allow him to see, James opened the paper, scanned its heading, and nearly dropped it. Frightened and confused, he stared at the date at the head of the paper.

** 1 July 1995**

_ My God, _James screamed inside his own head. _1995?! What's going on? Why is it 1995? How did fourteen years just vanish?_

"Lily, my God, Lily. Look at the date. Oh God, look at the year!"

Lily shuffled forward enough to see the top of the paper. When she saw it, however, James had to move quickly to cover her mouth before she let out another scream. He clamped his down over her lips, dropping the paper as he did so, and followed her down to the ground as her legs gave out and collapsed beneath her emotions.

"Oh James! Oh God, James! Fourteen years! Where have we been for fourteen years? Oh Harry! Where's Harry? What's happened to my baby?"

James pulled his wife close. "Shh, Lily, its alright. We'll figure this out. I'm sure that Harry is fine. Sirius would not have let anything happen to him. Neither would Remus or Dumble... dore..." His voice trailed off as a thought struck him. "Dumbledore!" He nearly shouted.

"We have to go see Dumbledore!"

"What?" Lily whispered.

"We need to see Dumbledore. He can tell us. If anyone will know what's happened to us, why we look older, why the house is destroyed, where our son is, he will."

James pulled lily to her feet, though her emotional turmoil made this a difficult task as her sagging legs didn't seem able to completely support her weight. Finally, he managed to get his wife to a standing position. "Come on, Lily." He whispered in her. Then, pulling her close to himself, James Disappirated with a loud CRACK!

Editor's note: i know this chapter is short. the next one will be about 700 words or so. if you have any opinions or suggestions, please review.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all related official material is the property of J.K. Rowling

Chapter 4

When night fell in the village of Hogsmeade, it was common for most of the inhabitants to retreat to their homes after the shops were locked up. This was a wise decision, as the close proximity of the Forbidden Forest on the Hogwarts's grounds meant that it was not uncommon for some the forest's more enterprising denizens to prowl the alleys of the village, scavenging the debris of the day for food.

Those villagers that didn't elect to return to their homes instead made their way to one of the two local pubs: the bright, vibrant, and popular Three Broomsticks, or the somewhat seedier Hog's Head. As such, this meant that the street running through the village and up to the school was, by and large, empty. At least, it was, until a loud CRACK filled the air as two people suddenly appeared in the middle of the street.

James staggered as the disorientation that occasionally accompanied Apparition washed over him, along with a sharp increase in the weight on his right side. Lily's legs had almost collapsed for the third time that night. Pulling his wife back to her feet, he whispered, "Come on, Lily. Only a little further." Holding her steady, James turned his head, trying to discern their exact location; his eyes fell upon the castle, lights glimmering from its many windows, perched on the lakeside cliff, over a mile up the road from the village.

Gripping Lily's shoulders, James began leading her up the street through the village. As they passed the Three Broomsticks, the noise of conversation and the smells of cooking rolled out and over James. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that it had apparently been over a decade since last he ate. _There's no time,_ James thought sadly as he and his wife trudged up to the entrance of the grounds.

As soon as James and Lily passed between the two winged boar topped pillars of the gate to the grounds, James felt an unfamiliar surge in his body. It was as if the magically charged atmosphere around the castle was renewing some of his strength and will, while alleviating some of the weariness and tension that he had felt since seeing his own tombstone. Lily also seemed to feel affected; her legs were steadier, her stance straighter, her grip on James's arm was stronger. James looked back up as the castle. A feeling of relief was flowing through him, filling him with a sense of warmth and security. It felt as if he was coming home. _Good old Hogwarts,_ James thought with a sigh.

Moving much more swiftly then before, the couple quickly walked up the carriage path to the great oak front doors to the castle. James raised his hand and pushed on the door. Creaking and squealing, the massive wooden structures swung inward, leaving an opening that, while no more than a crack for something so large, was sufficient for two people to slip through. With a soft tug, he pulled Lily along after him as they entered the castle. Moving silently, though only by virtue of there being a lack of any ears to hear them, James and Lily made their way through the familiar corridors and stairways of the old school, trudging down hallways and traipsing up flights of stairs, 'til they reached a rather ugly old gargoyle statue.

For a moment, James just looked at the gargoyle. It had just occurred to him that one was required to give the proper password before the statue could step aside, and _he didn't know it!_

Lily whispered something unintelligible. Bending his head down to hear better, James asked his wife, "What is it Lily?"

"Sweets," she whispered again, "Dumbledore likes sweets. Uses them as passwords."

James glanced back at the gargoyle, mentally sifting through all the memories he had of Honeyduke's Sweet Shop, the snack trolley on the Hogwarts Express, even traipsing down Diagon Alley. Gently leaning Lily against the wall of the corridor, he turned to the statue, cleared his throat, and spoke, "Chocolate Frog." The gargoyle did not move

"Very well," James muttered to himself, "How about Droople's Best Blowing Gum?"

Still, the statue was unanimated.

"Ice Mice. Pumpkin Pasty. Acid Pops. Fizzing Whizbee."

At the last name, the gargoyle sprang aside as the wall behind it slid open. James quickly pulled Lily back to her feet and held her close to keep her there. Half carrying her, James led the way onto the escalating spiral staircase, which began to carry the couple upwards.

For several minutes, James and Lily stood in silence, holding each other as the stair case slowly moved them higher in the castle. Lily began to whimper again, soft cries of "Harry, oh my Harry," escaping her lips. James tightened his arms around her, hoping the God that Dumbledore would have some answers for them.

After what seemed like hours to James, the revolving stairway came to a halt before a handsome oak door, a gryphon knocker situated just above a golden plaque that bore a ledger.

**Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore**

**Headmaster**

Stepping to the door, James could hear what sounded like several dozen people talking softly on the other side. Holding lily with one arm, he raised the other and rapped the gryphon knocker three times. The babbling beyond the door immediately ceased, and James could hear the sound of slippered feet moving softly across the floor in the sudden silence. The door opened, and Dumbledore was there, looking as serene and stately as ever, as he asked, "May I help you?"

For a moment, he and the Potters just stared at each other. Then recognition crept its way onto Dumbledore's face, followed immediately by, to James's own confusion and surprise, startlement and bewilderment. All he said was, "Oh my," when Lily suddenly gave a great wail, and threw herself into Dumbledore's arms, wrapping her own around his neck. She managed to sob out, "Oh Albus!" before dissolving into tears completely.

Editor's note: this is my longest chapter yet, and i really hope its done ok.

please review if you have anything that you'd like to share about what you've read.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews. I am really pleased that so many people like this working so far. As to requests that I make my chapters longer, all I can say to that is that I am new to this whole writing thing and all I can do is write an amount that I few comfortable with, then stop. If I need to, I will combine sections that I have already written and not posted yet, but what I am doing now is allowing me to continue posting in a timely manner. To those who want me to keep to the original book 5 story line, I will try to do that somewhat, but I want my work to seem plausible. Harry's folks coming back is going to alter how a great many events are going to play out.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all related official materials are the property of J.K. Rowling

Chapter 5

In hindsight, James would forever treasure the look of astonishment, however small, that flashed across the face of Albus Dumbledore. Albus kept looking back and forth between the sobbing Lily clinging to the front of his robes, to the exhausted looking James, leaning on the door frame. James could see the play of emotions in Dumbledore's no longer twinkling eyes; the shock and astonishment, the surprise and confusion, and James knew something was amiss, that something was wrong. _He is surprised by more than just our late night visit._

"Dumbledore, Albus, please. What's going on? What is happening to us? Why is my house destroyed? Why do the papers all say that its 1995? Albus, where is my son?"

Dumbledore just stood there silently, staring at them blankly for several seconds. When he finally spoke, it was only to repeat, "Oh my."

Lily looked up through puffy red eyes. "Please, tell us something, Albus, please."

Dumbledore looked down at the stricken women, then back up to James. "I think that you had better come inside, James."

Turning, he wove his arm through Lily's and led both her and her husband into his office, where he flicked his wand and conjured up two arm chairs in front of his desk. Dumbledore then walked Lily over to one of them and gently helped her into it, leaving James to take the other. Rounding the desk, Albus glanced at the Potters and said, "I believe that we may need a drink before we delve into these particular explanations." With that, he waved his wand toward one of the cabinets that stood against the wall. The doors banged open as three small glasses and a bottle of fiery amber liquid soared out and over top the desk. As they flew, the bottle opened and poured the fluid into two of the glasses, which landed in front of James and Lily. The bottle and third glass set down in before Dumbledore.

"Please, drink. I rather think that you need it at the moment." Dumbledore then sat down and poured a shot of his own.

James reached for his glass, raised it, and downed the fire whisky in one swallow. Immediately, he felt a hot burning sensation travel down his throat to his stomach, and from there, spread throughout his entire body. It was not altogether unpleasant. Lily, however, did not touch her drink. She simply stared at it, not really seeing it. Her eyes, while still red and puffy form crying repeatedly, had taken on a flat, dead look. Dumbledore looked at her over the rim of his own raised glass. Knocking back the alcohol, he set the glass down and heaved a sigh.

"I believe some explanations are in order." Dumbledore began.

James interrupted, "Albus, what the bloody hell is going on? The last thing that I remember, I was answering the door bell at home. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in a cemetery, dressed like this," he gesture to the tattered, once fine robes he wore, "and both my wife and I look ten years older. My house is destroyed, the papers tell me an impossible date, and my son is missing."

At this, Lily's head shot up, staring straight at Dumbledore. "Harry? Where's Harry? Where's my baby?" Her was rising, a panicked edge to it.

Dumbledore raised his hands in a soothing gesture. "Lily. Lily, it's alright. Harry is alright. Please calm down and I will explain everything that I can. But first…" Dumbledore raised his voice and called, "Dobby."

There was a CRACK, and suddenly a house elf with a long pointed nose and bright green eyes stood next to the desk.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, sir?" The elf piped in a high, squeaky voice.

Dumbledore looked down at the small figure. "Would you please go and fetch Madam Pomfrey for me? Our guests here are in need of some medical attention."

The house elf cast a curious eye towards the Potters, but bowed deeply to Dumbledore, then vanished with another loud CRACK.

Dumbledore returned his attention to Lily and James. "Now James, if you would, please tell me everything that has happened." So James settled into his seat and began to talk.

He told Dumbledore everything, from waking up in the cemetery at Godric's Hollow and seeing the headstone, to finding his burnt out house and the Muggle newspaper, to coming to Hogsmeade and, from there, Hogwarts. Dumbledore sat listening intently, silent and still. When James had finished, Albus sat back in his chair, his eyes drifting across the snoozing portraits of headmasters past, lost in thought. James looked back to Lily, concern on his face at the sight of her deadened expression.

A sigh returned James's attention to the headmaster. Dumbledore leaned forward and studied the Potters for a moment before speaking. "I don't know how it is that the two of you have returned to us. It is unlike any magic that I have ever heard of." James blinked. For Dumbledore to say that was something indeed. "Under the circumstances, however, I would be quite willing to call this event a miracle. You two have been sorely missed, and it is good to see you both."

James looked into Dumbledore's eyes. "Can't you tell us anything?" he whispered.

Dumbledore smiled. "As to your other questions, I believe I can satisfy your curiosity, such as it is."

He settled back into his chair again, the smile fading. "I am sorry to say, James, that you and Lily have been dead for almost fourteen years." James sank against the back of his chair, while Lily emitted a faint moan. "You were both killed on the night of the 31st of October, in 1981, by Lord Voldemort, after information of your whereabouts was provided to him by Peter Petigrew. Voldemort had gone to your home that night in order to kill your son. However, do to the sacrifices that the two of you had made, he failed in the attempt, and the curse to kill Harry instead rebounded, nearly killing Voldemort and sending him into hiding for thirteen years."

James looked at Dumbledore, thunderstruck. "That's impossible. I can't be dead, WE can't be dead." Lily, however, raised her head and asked, "What of Harry?"

Editors note: Please review and share any views and opinions that you have about the story.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: sorry for the long wait on posting. been having trouble getting my betas to sit down and go over my stuff. should be able to get another bunch of chapters posted soon, hopefully this week.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all related official material is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 6

Dumbledore turned his piercing gaze on Lily for a moment before speaking. "Harry is alive and well. He is currently staying at your sister's, Lily, at least until certain arraignments can be made. Before I tell more, however, I need the both of you to understand something." Dumbledore got up from his seat and began to pace back and forth behind his desk. From the corner, the eyes of Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, followed his progress.

"When you gave your life to protect Harry's, that Halloween night, you enacted a very powerful charm, Lily. Your sacrifice placed upon Harry a protection so strong that it caused the curse meant to kill your son to rebound, crippling Voldemort, stripping him of his body and the majority of his powers, and forcing him to flee. This protection lingered on in Harry, safeguarding him. To insure that it would not fade, at least not until he was strong enough to defend himself, I activated a ritual of blood bonding by taking Harry to where the last member of your blood family yet lived, Lily."

"Petunia," rasped Lily. "But she hates magic, Dumbledore, and anything relating to it, including me! What on earth possessed you to think that she would care for Harry? She would have put him out on the street, or left him at the nearest orphanage she could find."

Dumbledore sighed. "I must say that I would almost agree with you on that point. Petunia's treatment of Harry, as well as that of her family's treatment of him, has been somewhat less than satisfactory. I had rather hoped that both of your deaths, as well as the needs of an orphaned infant child, would bring out a stronger response of familial feelings. I was mistaken, although it does bear mentioning that she did take Harry in and raise him these past fourteen years."

Lily's face, the color returning, looked astonished. "She took him in? Petunia?"

"Yes," replied Dumbledore, "and while Harry did not receive the level of treatment that I would have preferred, when he arrived here at Hogwarts for his first year, four years ago, he was nonetheless as happy and healthy as could expected." Lily began to cry softly. When James looked to her, he saw that, instead of tears of despair, these were tears of unspeakable joy.

"He's alive. He's alive. Oh God, my baby is alive." Lily's voice was quavering with yet unshed tears. James leaned over and, wrapping his arms around her, shared in his wife's joy. _Their son was alive!_ James turned his eyes to Dumbledore. "What else, Albus? Tell us everything."

And so Dumbledore began to relate to the Potters everything their son had done during the past four years at Hogwarts. As he began to recite the events of Harry's first year, a spectrum of emotions played across the faces of the two parents: Harry's Sorting (James and Lily looked at each other, full of pride and relief at the choice of their son's House), his first flying lesson ("Seeker, in his first year, Lily. Can you believe it?), the incident with the troll on Halloween ("My goodness, Albus, how on earth could you let it get in the castle?"), Harry's first Quidditch match ("He actually caught it in his mouth? That's brilliant!"), Christmas ("And he uses that silly cloak? Oh James, he'll get himself into so much trouble."), Hagrid's attempt to raise a dragon ("Come now, Dumbledore, a dragon? Honestly, I think Hagrid has a serious problem."), and finally, to Harry's confrontation with Veldemort at the end of the year.

When Dumbledore recounted Harry's exploits to save the Sorcerer's Stone, Lily gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, and James tightened his grip on the arms of the chair 'til the wood creaked. Dumbledore went on, "I do have to tell that the both of you would have been proud of Harry for what he did. What he and his friends accomplished to save to that Stone was little short of extraordinary." James looked to his wife. Lily's face was still anxious.

"Albus, why couldn't Quirrel touch him? Why did Harry's skin burn him?"

"Ah Lily, that would be due to that protective charm that you placed on him. The one that I mentioned earlier. Until recently, as long as that protection lived in his very blood, Voldemort could not so much as lay a fingertip on Harry without suffering great pain. Quirrel had been sharing his body and soul with Voldemort, so Quirrel touching Harry amounted to the same thing."

Lily glanced back at her husband before speaking again. "Go on, Albus. Please continue."

Dumbledore nodded his head. "Harry's second year was not much different from his first in most respects, though it did start off rather unpleasantly." He explained about the incident with the Weasley's flying car. James responded to this with a roar of laughter while Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. Lily, however, looked slightly peeved. While still uproariously happy that her son was alive and well, the sensible, responsible part of her felt offended that Harry had taken such a rash, impulsive action.

Dumbledore continued his narrative of Harry's actions over his second year. James and Lily's faces grew darker and more concerned as Dumbledore described the attacks on Muggle-born students by the basilisk, the suspicion against Harry, due to his being a Parselmouth, and the sheer incompetence of Gilderoy Lockhart as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Really Dumbledore, how could you let such a complete imbecile take up a teaching post?" asked James once Dumbledore finished iterating Harry's slaying of the basilisk. Lily was still pale from fright and shock at hearing about Harry's deadly encounter in the Chamber of Secrets.

"It was not entirely my choice, James, I assure you." Dumbledore responded soothingly. "It was simply that no one else had applied for the position. We have not been able to keep a teacher for the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts for more than a year."

James sat back in his chair and scowled. _Well, maybe I ought to do something to change that ,_ James wondered to himself, and possibilities began to play inside his head.

Editor's note: if you have any opinions and ideas, please review and share them. i am not opposed to PM for more in depth inquiry.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: as I promised, here's another chapter rather sooner than usual. Hope you fans enjoy.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all official related material is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 7

When Dumbledore began to tell of Harry's third year at Hogwarts, he paused and looked at James. "Before we proceed, James, there is something I believe you should know. Following your deaths at the hands of Voldemort, your friend Sirius Black went looking for Peter Petigrew. He planned on confronting him for his betrayal of you to Voldemort and to bring him to account for it. When he caught up to Peter, however, Peter proclaimed to the street at large that it was Sirius who had betrayed you. Peter then proceeded to blow up the street behind him with his wand, killing 12 Muggles in the process, before cutting off one of his fingers, transforming into a rat, and fleeing into the sewer. When Ministry officials arrived, all the evidence at the scene, including the severed finger and the eye witness statements, pointed at Sirius, labeling him as a mass murder. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban."

James surged to his feet. "What?! Dumbledore, what do you mean, life in Azkaban?" He began to pace back and forth behind his and Lily's chairs. "We cannot let this stand! Absolutely not. We have to get him out of there. I'll go talk Bartimious Crouch myself. By Merlin, I'll go all the way up to Millicent Bagnold if I have to." His speech soon devolved into dark mutterings and splutters.

Dumbledore made soothing gestures with his hand. "Calm down, James, please calm down. If you would please return to your seat, I will continue."

"But Sirius..."

"Sirius is fine. He managed to escape from Azkaban."

James spun to face the headmaster. "Escaped?!"

"Yes, two years ago. I currently have him hiding out his mother's old house. If you would please sit down, I can explain everything."

James returned to his seat, but rage and indignation at the injustice of Sirius's position still burned through him. Lily reached over and laid a placating hand on his arm. "Please James," she whispered, "we can work out about Sirius later." She returned her attention to Dumbledore, gesturing for him to continue.

Dumbledore inclined his towards her and continued his narrative, beginning with Sirius's escape from Azkaban, the Ministry's manhunt for him, and the stationing of Dementors around the school's perimeter in an effort to capture him. Lily shuddered when she heard that last bit. James was simply livid.

"How dare they place those... those... things around the school! Around children!"

"I completely agree with you James, but now is not the time to discuss the Ministry's misguided security policies."\

James again settled into a sullen silence, but inside his anger at the Ministry kept building. Dumbledore glanced at him before continuing his story. He spoke of Harry's accident concerning Marge Dursley, which immediately lightened James's mood and sent him roaring with laughter while Lily seemed torn between a fit of giggles and a sigh of exasperation. Dumbledore proceeded to Harry's flight from the Dursleys', his ride on the Knight Bus, and his stay in the Leaky Cauldron. When he told the Potters of Harry's first encounter with a Dementor on the school train, Lily once again burst into tears.

"He hears our deaths?" she asked in a choked voice.

"Yes, his past horrors render him particularly vulnerable to their effects. However, Harry has taken the initiative and taken steps to protect himself most admirably. Remus Lupin, who served as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that year, agreed to teach Harry..."

"Wait, Remus?" James interrupted. "Moony was a teacher here?"

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, "Remus taught here until it was let slip about his condition at the end of that term. As I was saying, he agreed to teach Harry the Patronus Charm so that your son could defend himself against the Dementors."

Dumbledore continued to ramble on, narrating Hagrid's and Lupin's appointments as teachers, Sirius's breaches of the school's security, and the reports of Harry's exploits over the year. When he began to speak about Harry, Ron, and Hermione's experience with Sirius, and the resulting revelation that Ron's rat, Scabbers, had been Peter Petigrew, James's hands tightened on the arms of his chair again, and the wood creaked ominously. Lily looked at her husband, worry in her eyes, but James kept his jaw clenched so tight that his face was turning white. This changed to a look of unmitigated pride when Dumbledore spoke of Harry and Hermione's adventure with the Time-Turner and their rescue of Sirius fro right under the Ministry's nose.

"Oh, my boy." James whispered, "My brave, noble boy."

"Yes, he does seem to have a tendency to heroics." Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye.

Lily closed her eyes, put a hand to her mouth, and began to cry silently, weeping tears of joy and pride.

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	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all related official matreials are the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 8

Dumbledore waited patiently as the torrent of emotions flooded over the Potters. He could easily relate to the great rushes of pride and joy that they felt over the success of their son. He had, after all, often felt the same about Harry, though over a century's worth of experience had given him enough control not to let it show as plainly. Harry had been like a grandson to him, and so he had a grandfather's appreciation for the boy's accomplishments.

After several minutes had passed, though, Dumbledore cleared his throat and brought the Potter's attention back to him. As they turned to face him, he pondered again how much to tell them now, and how much to leave for when the situation had settled. Dumbledore had been careful to omit that Severus Snape was a teacher her at the school. He was well aware of how James felt about Severus, and could guess with reasonable certainty what his reaction would be, not only to the fact that Severus was a teacher, but also to the knowledge of Snape's treatment of Harry here at the school. Yes, it was probably a wiser choice to wait to reveal those facts until James was with those who could help keep him calm.

"As I was saying, Harry does seem to be quite adept at surviving perilous situations and coming out ahead, in fact. I'd say that this past year has done more to prove that than any previous."

And so Dumbledore dove into the telling of Harry's fourth year, beginning with Harry's attendance of the Quidditch World Cup, the riot in the campground, and the decision to host the Triwizard Tournament.

James and Lily perked up at the mention of the Tournament. Both knew the history of the competition, but it had not been held in centuries. That Hogwarts had actually hosted it was shocking.

Dumbledore went on into the school year, speaking of Harry's classes and newly appointed teachers, the Tournament's announcement, and the arrival of the Beuxbatons and Durmstrang students. When he reached the part where Harry had been selected by the Goblet of Fire as the Fourth Tournament Champion, it was Lily who stood, her face a caricature of rage.

"And you just let him continue as Champion? How could you, Albus? He's only a boy. People have died in that Tournament, Dumbledore!"

"Calm yourself, Lily. Please calm yourself. Having one's name chosen by the Goblet constitutes a binding magical contract that cannot be broken. Harry had to compete. There was nothing anyone could have done. Besides, Harry's name was not submitted by his own volition. The Death Eater masquerading as Alastor Moody submitted it to the Goblet and made sure he was selected."

Lily sat back down; her face flushed with anger, but remained silent. Her expression told Dumbledore that this particular discussion was not finished. Dumbledore sighed inwardly but continued on with the story. He went over the reaction to Harry's selection, the return of Sirius to the school, the Weighing of the Wands ceremony, Rita Skeeter's news articles ("I never liked that woman, even back at school." Muttered Lily,") and on up to the First Task.

When he reached the First Task, Lily and James's faces went pale at the thought of AHrry, whe they still saw as a smiling infant, trying to face a full grown Hungarian Horntail. But as the headmaster described how Harry managed to out fly the dragon, James's face lit up and it was all he could do not to jump to his feet and give a resounding cheer.

From the First Task, Dumbledore went on to explain the Christmas Holidays and the Yule Ball, to which Lily broke into tears again, and cried that she wished that a picture had been taken so that she could see how her baby looked in dress robes. After that, the headmaster went on to tell of the Second Task. It surprised both James and Lily that there were mer people living in the lake. That the Champions had been sent into the lake to confront them brought a huff of indignation from Lily.

But when Dumbledore spoke of the Third Task, James and Lily leapt to their feet.

"He's back?!" James roared.

Dumbledore nodded his head, his face grave. "Yes, Voldemort has returned. By using some of Harry's blood in a very ancient and dark ritual, he recreated his old body, and now works to rebuild his forces."

"But what of Harry?! What happened to him?!" shrieked Lily.

"Harry is fine, though it was a very traumatic experience for him. He was forced to watch as Voldemort killed a fellow student; a young man by the name of Cedric Diggory. I don't believe this has caused any real lsting harm, but I would be very much surprised if Harry hasn't been having nightmares about it."

James began to pace. "I think that we've heard enough, Dumbledore. When can we see Harry? When can we see our son?"

Dumbledore stood as well. "Shortly, James, quite shortly. We just need Poppy to come ans have a look at the two of you. I think it would be a good idea to make sure that you are both healthy and well before we proceed. And I do believe that this is her now."

There was a knock at the door before it opened to admit the house elf, dobby, and the school nurse, Madame Pomfrey. When Madame Pomfrey was the Potters, she stopped short, staring at them, before emitting a loud scream.

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	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

In heart beats, Dumbledore was the side of screaming school nurse. "Poppy… Poppy, please calm down." He placed a hand on each of the nurse's shoulders and shook her gently. Madame Pomfrey's screams faded away, though her face remained pale and her breathing was quick and ragged. Her frantic eyes darted from the Potters to Dumbledore, then back to the Potters.

"That's impossible, Headmaster, absolutely impossible. They can't be here. They can't be real. **They can't be alive!**"

"Poppy, it's alright. They are alright. It's not a trick. They are alive and they are here. Please calm down and breathe."

Slowly, Madame Pomfrey's breathing slowed down and became more regular. The panicked look in her eyes receded and was replaced by one of shock and confusion. She looked to Dumbledore's serene face.

"What's going on, Professor Dumbledore? How is this possible?"

"None of us know how this is possible, Poppy, only that it is. James and Lily have returned to us."

Dumbledore removed a hand from her shoulders and gestured to the seated couple. "Go and see for yourself. Look at them and make sure for your own piece of mind." He removed his other hand and stepped away from the nurse.

Madame Pomfrey began to take halting steps to where James and Lily were seated. As she did, they rose from their seats to face her fully. James's eyes had a hopeful look to them, while Lily wore a faint, almost reassuring smile. When the school nurse reached them, she raised trembling fingers and gently touched first James's, then Lily's faces. As her fingers caressed Lily's cheek, she looked into Lily's emerald eyes, and she knew. They were real. Lily was real. Both of the Potters were real, and they were alive.

Suddenly, Madame Pomfrey was sobbing hysterically. She pulled Lily into a tight embrace, crying still, before turning and giving James a crushing hug of his own. Finally pushing James away, she straightened her hat and tried to take on a serious professional tone, which was ruined by her choked voice. "Now look at the two of you. You look like something one of Hagrid's pets dragged in. You just yourselves down and let me have a look at you." With that, the Potters were forced back into their seats as Madame Pomfrey began her examination. She poked and prodded, eyed and listened, for what seemed like hours to her patients. Finally, she stepped back and presented her findings.

"Well, Headmaster, I can honestly say that for two people who are supposed to be dead, I've not seen anyone healthier. There is absolutely nothing wrong with either of them that I can find."

"Thank you, Poppy. That will be all. I'm sure that, tired as they certainly are, Lily and James still have some things that require their attention."

"Oh, I can most certainly believe that." Madame Pomfrey strode back towards the door. Before she stepped through onto the spiraling staircase, she look back to the Potters, joy etched into her features. "It is good to see you both." With that, she was gone.

Dumbledore walked back up to the Potters. "I think it is reasonable to assume that you will likely receive similar reactions, once that rest of your old acquaintances and friends see you."

James gave a nervous laugh. "Yes, I believe you may be right about that. I only hope that nobody decides to curse first and ask questions later."

Lily, however, took a deep breath before asking her question. "When can we see Harry?"

Dumbledore looked back at her. "As soon as arraignments can be made to transport him safely. First, we shall need to get the two of you to headquarters. If you would follow me?" Dumbledore led the couple over to a nearby fireplace. "Before we go there, I must tell you that as soon as Harry told me a Lord Voldemort's return, I recalled the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius has been gracious enough to let us use his family home as our headquarters . as I am Secret Keeper for the Order, I must be the one to provide you with the information that will allow you to enter." Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke in a tone that seemed somewhat formal. "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number 12, Grimauld Place, London." He then turned and pointed his wand at the empty fireplace. Flames immediately sprang to life.

As Dumbledore reached in a small flower pot set on the fireplace mantle, he looked up at the portraits of sleeping headmasters. Focusing on one that showed a rather clever looking wizard, sleeping in front of a Slytherin Banner, he called, "Phineus. PHINEUS! Wake up!"

The clever looking wizard sat up, wiped the drool from his lips, and glared daggers down at Dumbledore.

"There's no need to shout, by Merlin's Beard. What do you want, Dumbledore?"

"I need you to go and visit your other portrait, Phineus. Tell Sirius that I will be along shortly, along with two guests. Please ask him to be ready to receive us."

"Yes, yes, I'll tell him." With that, Phineus Nigellus walked out of his portrait and vanished.

Dumbledore returned his attention to the fire. Taking a handful of sandy substance from the pot on the mantle, he cast it into the fire, which erupted an emerald green color.

James stepped forward into the flame, shouting, "Number 12 , Grimauld Place." There was a flash, and he was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all official related material are the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 10

When James stumbled out of the fireplace, after he had ceased spinning, he had to stagger out of the way to avoid being run into as Lily stepped into the room. Rubbing his eyes to clear the soot from them, he righted his glasses and looked around. They were in a kitchen, a rather dark and gloomy one at that, and it was empty save for himself, his wife, and the newly emerged Dumbledore. Reaching over to help his wife steady herself, James looked to Dumbledore. "Where are we now?" he asked.

"As I said back at the school, we are at Number 12, Grimuald Place, which is headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. This house, which is located in London, is also the home of your friend, Sirius Black, and has been in his family for several generations." Dumbledore turned to the door. "And I do believe that I can hear him now." And in fact, James could hear what sounded like footsteps coming down a set of stairs just beyond the kitchen's only door.

"If you would please wait here for a moment," Dumbledore instructed before striding to the door, pulling it open, and stepping through. The door swung shut behind the headmaster, leaving James and Lily alone in the dark and rather filthy kitchen. After a moment's pause, James led his wife to the nearby table and sat her down. His own weary body longed to sit as well, hell, it longed to relax on a soft bed and send him off to a much needed sleep, but his wired mind refused to relax, refused to settle down, until he could manage to set matters straight. James was also sure that Lily felt the same. As tired as she was, she would never rest until she saw Harry.

In the silence of the kitchen, the Potters could hear voices drifting through the door from the hallway beyond. The clear, calm voice they recognized as Dumbledore's, though the coarser, harsher voice escaped identification. This second voice seemed to be rising in volume, as well as taking on tones of disbelief, confusion, and accusation. The door burst open, and there stood a man that James didn't recognize.

He had shoulder length hair, a face that bore signs of much wear despite the relative youth of its occupant. The eyes were sunken and the cheeks were hollow with the look of someone who had been very ill and only recently returning to health.

Both James and the man stared at each other for heartbeats before Dumbledore appeared at the stranger's shoulder. "As you can see, I was not lying to you, Sirius." James and the man gaped at each other. _Sirius? This is Sirius Black?_ This figure and the one from his memories could not be one and the same.

This unfamiliar 'Sirius' seemed to be having similar difficulty comprehending what was before him. He turned to the older man behind him. "This is impossible, Dumbledore. This is bloody impossible. How can they be alive? How the bloody hell can they be standing in front of me?"

"I have been asking myself that very same question for the past several hours, Sirius, just as I believe our guest have been doing as well. But go and see for yourself, find out if they are real or not." And Dumbledore gestured for the man to proceed.

The man stepped into the room, and as the light from the hearth fell on him, James could finally see elements of his old friend in this man's face; the arc of the nose, the height of the cheek bones, the shape of the jaw. The man peered into James's face, then his sunken eyes widened. "Prongs, is it really you?"

At that moment, James knew that this was Sirius, that this was his best friend. "Padfoot…" He couldn't say anymore as Sirius pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

"James, oh James, I'm so sorry. Oh God, it's all my fault, and I am so sorry." Sirius sobbed into his friend's shoulder.

James squeezed back until Sirius's sobs took on a wheeze. "It's alright, Sirius, it's alright. Harry is safe. That's all that matters. It's alright." Tears began to stream from his own eyes. At the nearby table, Lily had covered her mouth, her shoulders quivering in a silent weeping.

When the friends finally managed to pull away from one another, James looked back into Sirius's ravaged, once handsome features. "My God, Sirius. What happened to you?" James whispered.

Sirius grimaced. "Twelve years in Azkaban, James. Twelve years for Peter's betrayal."

James scowled. "I will make the right, Sirius. I will clear you name. In front of the whole Wizengamot, I will swear it."

Sirius's features finally relaxed as he gave a bark like laugh. "Well, first you're gonna have to keep them from shipping you down to the Department of Mysteries for being alive when you should be dead."

With this relapse into Sirius's characteristic humor, James felt some of his pent up tension finally leave his body. As Sirius turned to greet Lily, she stepped into a warm embrace that seemed to reassure her. While the two hugged, James looked to Dumbledore, catching sight of a fading silver light in the corridor as Dumbledore stowed his wand away inside his robes.

At James's questioning look, the headmaster clarified. "I have sent word to various members of the Order to attend a meeting here so that we may explain the current situation to them. The Weasley will be arriving shortly and I have asked Nymphadora Tonks to collect Hermione Granger. Once they have arrived, we will assemble a party to go and collect Harry."

James nodded his head and turned to his wife and Sirius, who had finally released each other. Sirius returned the glance. "Well now, James, Lily, you must be famished. Sit down, sit down, and I will try and get the two of you something to eat."

So it was that Lily and James were still tucking into some sandwiches when Arthur, Molly, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny Weasley came spinning out of the fireplace.

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	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all related official material is the propery of J.K. Rowling

Chapter 11

As Ron pushed himself back to his feet, he could see his family similarly re-adjusting themselves after the rushed trip by Floo Powder. He personally had no idea where they were, or why they had come. All he knew was that one moment he was enjoying a rather pleasant dream about winning the Hogwarts' Quidditch Cup, in which Hermione had featured strongly for some strange reason, the next his mother was shaking him awake and telling him to hurry and pack. Neither his mother, nor his father were willing to explain as they bustled their children, loaded down with summer clothes and school things, down to their kitchen and ushered them through the roaring green flames in their fireplace.

Brushing ash off his pajamas, Ron took a moment to look around. He was standing in a rather dingy and gloomy looking kitchen. At the table in the center sat four people, two of whom he recognized.

Dumbledore seemed to sitting comfortably in an old wooden chair, sipping a cup of tea, his eyes twinkling, a look of expectation on his face. Sirius was beginning to stand, his face a little surprised at the sudden appearance of more guests, but his eyes were dancing with a kind of joy that Ron had never seen there before. And then there was the couple still sitting that he didn't know, although the man wearing glasses seemed vaguely familiar.

Sirius walked around the table to where the Weasleys were staggering to their feet. Pulling up Fred, who had gotten his legs tangled with George's and had fallen on him, then his twin, Sirius turned to Mr. Weasley, offering a hand.

"Arthur, good to see you could make it. Any problems?"

Mr. Weasley straightened his glasses before reaching to take the younger man's hand. "Not at all, Sirius, not at all. We made sure to collect the children's school things. Dumbledore hinted that we may be staying here for the rest of the summer. And speak of the Devil!" Mr. Weasley had just spotted Dumbledore sitting at the table, "Dumbledore, may I ask what was so urgent as to call on us at 3:30 in the morning?"

Dumbledore smiled, "To answer that, I would ask that you take a closer look at our two guests." He gestured to the two other people sitting at the table.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other in confusion before focusing their attention on the two unknowns. For several minutes, the four adults just looked at each other, and then Mr. Weasley drew back with a gasp. "Merlin's Beard! It's impossible!" Mr. Weasley switched his stare to Dumbledore. "Dumbledore, just what is going on? Is this some sort of joke? Because if it is, I assure you that it is not the least bit funny." It was then that Mrs. Weasley pulled back as well, her eyes wide with shock.

"Oh my word, Albus. How can this be?" Mrs. Weasley whispered hoarsely.

"Molly, Arthur, I can honestly say that I have no idea how this has happened. But, I assure you, it is no joke. They have returned to us, and I believe that we should all be thankful for that."

Ron looked back and forth between the strangers, Dumbledore, and his parents, growing more confused with each passing second. He turned to his siblings. "Did any of you understand any of that? Because I sure as hell didn't."

`Mrs. Weasley rounded on her son, her shock and confusion vanishing instantly. "You watch your mouth, Ronald Weasley! Don't you dare let me catch you using such language again." Ron could hear Fred and George snickering at him from behind their mother's back. Ron felt his ears grow hot with embarrassment and indignation. "Well then, what's going on? Who are they?"

Sirius stepped forward, his mouth opening to speak, when someone said, "Yes. We were wondering at that ourselves." Everyone in the room turned as a young woman sporting a shock of bubblegum pink hair, torn blue jeans, and a T-shirt with 'The Weird Sisters' blazoned across the front stepped into the kitchen from the hallway, accompanied by Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin. The young woman raised her hand in greeting. "Wotcher, Sirius, Dumbledore. Brought her along just like you asked." She walked to the table, then, realizing she had not been followed, turned around to see what kept her two companions. Remus and Hermione were standing stock still, staring at the two strangers sitting at the table. Hermione had her hands clasped over her mouth, and Lupin's haggard face had gone very pale. When he spoke, his voice was a barely audible rasp. "That's not possible." His eyes were locked on those of the man in glasses, and were filled with a mixture of confusion, horror, and something strange. Something that Ron didn't expect to see. Hope.

In a heartbeat, Sirius and Dumbledore were at Remus's side. "Moony, Moony, listen to me." Sirius was holding Lupin's arms against his sides, preventing Lupin from reaching for his wand. "It's not a trick. They're real, they are alive. Remus, you have to calm down." Dumbledore was pulling Hermione away from Lupin's side. He raised his head and spoke in a resounding voice, "Remus, you will get control of yourself, please, and calm down. It's alright. They are alright. It's all fine, just calm down." Slowly, Lupin's hands unclenched, his muscles loosened.

Dumbledore led Hermione over to where the Weasley children stood bewildered. After Dumbledore returned to help Lupin to a seat at the table, the man with glasses rose to his feet and walked up to the werewolf. Several moments passed as they first just stared at each other. Then could hear the sound of whispers as the two men talked quietly for a bit. Suddenly, Lupin pulled the man in a tight embrace that lasted for several minutes before they both took their seats. Ron leaned over to Hermione and asked in a low toe, "Hermione, what's going on? We're dragged here in the middle of the night and nobody is telling us anything." Ginny and the twins nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

Hermione looked askance at Ron. "What do you mean? Are you telling me that you don't know who they are?" She gestured to the two strangers.

Ron and his siblings shook their heads. "Nope, not a clue."

Hermione took Ron by the shoulders and turned him to face the table. "Ron, just look at them, I mean really look at them. Don't they remind you of anyone?"

Ron sighed and turned his gaze on the table, where the adults were talking in low voices. Lupin seemed to be crying and laughing at the same time. Ron couldn't understand what Hermione meant; yes, the man still seemed strangely familiar, but… the unknown red-haired woman turned and looked in their direction. She had green eyes. Very green eyes. And it hit Ron like a Whomping Willow. He spun to Hermione.

"Hermione, you can't be serious. They can't be…"

"I am serious. Ron, those are Harry's parents."

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	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all official related material is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 12

Ron and Hermione stood staring at the Potter s, unable to form coherent thought. The remaining Weasley children were equally speechless, and could only gaze in utter shock at the two previously unknown persons sitting at the table in Sirius's kitchen. It was several minutes before any of them could so much as rasp out a syllable, by which time several other people had arrived and gone through their own shock and awe routines.

The group sitting at the table were soon joined by Alastor Moody, who had needed to be restrained by Dumbledore for several minutes by means of a Total Body Bind Jinx,a dn who still kept his magical artificial eye flicking back and forth between James and Lily; Kingsley Shacklebolt, who's solem expression was betrayed by the shock in his widened eyes; Dedalus Diggle, who had begun dropping his hat every couple of minutes; and several others that the teenagers had yet to be introduced to. The young woman with brightly colored hair, whom Hermione had introduced as Tonks, was gazing at the Potters with a rapt expression of wonder and awe.

When Ron could finally talk again, he found himself at a loss. What did one say to the formerly dead parents of one's best mate? Hell, what did one say to one's best mate when said mate found out? Ron blanched. A frightening thought had just run through his mind: _What was Harry going to do when he found out? And who was going to tell him?_ Ron spun to face Hermione. The terrified look on her face conveyed that something similar was playing through her head.

"H… Hermione, has… anyone… told Harry yet? About his parents, I mean?"

"Ooh, Ron, I don't know. I mean, if he had been told, I think he would already be here." Hermione looked about nervously, as if trying to see if Harry had hidden himself in a corner and not chosen to show himself yet.

At that moment, Dumbledore choose to raise his voice from the whispers that had comprised the conversation at the kitchen table. "Very well, now that it seems that everyone's curiosity has been satisfied, and their suspicions allayed," the headmaster threw a quick, annoyed look at Mad-Eye Moody, who managed to look slightly shamefaced, "I believe we need to discuss the retrieval of the last person of whom this matter should concern."

Dumbledore let his gaze drift around those seated at the table. "At this time, I would like to ask for volunteers for the task of retrieving Harry Potter from Number 4, Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surry, where he is currently residing." There was a multitude of scraping and creaking of chairs as everyone seated at the table stood up. Dumbledore let out a soft sigh, though his eyes still twinkled with gratitude. "I see. Well then, I propose that Alastor, Remus, Kingsley, Nymphadora," Tonks cringed at the name; "Sturgis, Elphias, Hestia, Emaline, and Dedalus go and fetch Harry."

There was an immediate uproar from Sirius, James, and Lily.

"Come now, Dumbledore!"

"He's my son. Why can't I…"

"Please, Albus."

The headmaster's calm but commanding voice swiftly overrode their objections. "Sirius, you know perfectly well why you may not leave the house, and I will not remind you again. James, Lily, please calm down and think for a moment. How would it seem if two supposedly deceased individuals should turn up at the Dursley's to pick up someone who has had so many close encounters with a person as dangerous as Lord Voldemort? Since the beginning of this past June, Harry has become very proficient in quite a number of defensive spells, and I would not like to see the two of you hexed by your own son."

Though both Sirius and James returned to their seats, their faces dark and expressions sullen, Lily remained on her feet.

"Ablus," she pleaded, "please. He's my son."

Dumbledore looked into her eyes, his own filled with both a deep understanding and an iron resolution. "No Lily, I don't think that it would be wise. Harry's meeting with two of you, his parents, whom he still believes to be dead, must be carefully controlled so as not cause any accidents. It would be best if he met you here, in the company of those he is most comfortable with, such as the Weasley's and myself." He gestured around the room to both of Ron's parents, as well as the children standing near the fireplace.

Lily lowered her gaze and resumed her seat as those who had been given the task of retrieving Harry made their way into the front hall, their hands on the brooms which Dumbledore had conjured with a flick of his wand, saying, "The Floo Network is likely being watched by Voldemort's supporters in the Ministry. Brooms are currently the safest means for Harry to travel by. Remember to stay out of sight, and we will expect you back tonight."

Ron cast a glance at a nearby window, and could see dawn lighting up the horizon.

As the retrieval team left, Sirius gestured towards Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George. "Come on, you lot, have a seat, and I'll see about getting you something to eat."

Mrs. Weasley rose to her feet. "Here, Sirius, let me tend to that, and you can see about trying to find something clean for James and Lily to wear. I'm sure they would rather like to get out of those nasty old rags." The Potters looked down at themselves, remembering that they were still wearing the funeral dress robes they had been buried in, as the children sat down and steeled themselves for the awkward first conversation with their friend's dead parents.

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	13. Chapter 13

disclaimer: Harry potter and any and all official related material is the property of J.K. Rowling

Chapter 13

As the children sat down across from them, James felt a sudden wave of apprehension roil in through his middle. _These are Harry's friends, _he thought, _what will they think of us?_ Next to him, Lily looked nearly as nervous as he felt. For several minutes, silenced reigned while those seated at the table stared at each other as Mrs. Weasley bustled about with her cooking. Such was the tension, that when Mrs. Weasley spoke, every soul but Dumbledore jumped.

"Lily, James? I know that you have already eaten, but would either of you care for some breakfast?"

It was Mrs. Weasley's casual tone, more than anything else that allowed everyone to relax. James nodded to his wife, who, in turn, answered Mrs. Weasley. "Yes, please, M…. Molly. We would like that very much, thank you."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I believe that some introductions are in order, then. James, Lily, I would like you to meet Hary's friends. This tall young man," at this, the headmaster gestured to Ron, "is Ronald Weasley, and the young lady next to him," the hand moved to Hermione, "is Hermione Granger. They are in the same year as Harry, and are his closest friends. This young lady here," the gaze moved to Ron's other side, where Ginny sat, "is Ginevra Weasley, Ron's younger sister. The two gentlemen next to her," now Dumbledore looked beyond Ginny, "are Fred and George, two of Ron's elder Brothers." The twins raised their hands in greeting, forced smiles in their faces.

"Ladies, gentlemen, this is James Potter and Lily Evans Potter. They are Harry's parents."

"Hello." The young folk answered in unison.

"Hello." Replied the Potters. Lily was blushing slightly, and, to James's surprise, so were Hermione and Ginny.

Again silence began to set in, but before the tension began to thicken, Mrs. Weasley stepped in to head it off.

"Oh, don't just sit there and stare at each other. Ron, why don't you and Hermione tell Mr. and Mrs. Potter how the two of you met Harry?"

Ron looked back at his mother, panic writ across his face, but Hermione took a deep breath and seemed to set herself. Nudging Ron to get his attention, she gestured for him to begin. A nervous look still in his eyes, Ron opened his mouth, and began to talk. Haltingly at first, then with more, even eager, confidence, Ron told the Potters how he had met Harry on the school train, their first year at Hogwarts. He spoke of their companionship at school, and their adventures and mishaps. When he reached their first Halloween, Hermione jumped in and narrated Harry's and Ron's rescue of her from the troll. From there, she and Ron switched back and forth as they talked about all their experiences with Harry, with the occasional input from Fred, George, and Ginny. They were still talking when Mrs. Weasley set breakfast down in front of them, and didn't pause until Sirius returned to the kitchen, his arms full of robes.

"James, here are some of my old robes. They're clean, but they may be a bit long on you, hope you don't mind. Lily, I'm sorry, but the only things I could find for you to wear were some of my mother's old robes. I had to wrestle them away from Kreacher, so they're not all that clean…"

"That's alright, Sirius, that's alright." Mrs. Weasley had leapt to her feet. "I can clean them up for her. Lily, dear, could you come with me? Let's get you changed. Sirius, do you have a room we can use?"

"Certainly, Molly. Up the stairs. Just use the first empty room you can find."

James nodded to his wife. "Lily, go with her. I'll change after you return." Then he returned his attention to the children seated across from him and began asking questions of Ron while Mrs. Weasley led Lily out of the door

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	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and any and all official related material is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 14

James had just finished emptying his plate, his questions exhausted, when Lily and Mrs. Weasley returned to the kitchen. Lily was no longer in the moldy and tattered robes that she had been buried in, but rather wore a set of very reserved old fashioned robes that were a very dark purple in color. Mrs. Weasley beckoned to James. "The room is free, dear; you can go and change now."

James stood, gathered up the bundle of clothing that Sirius had handed him, and strode to the door that his wife and Mrs. Weasley had just come through. As he passed, he said, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Please, James, call me Molly. And its no trouble at all. Harry is very dear to me and Arthur, and we're elated to help." Molly patted James on the Shoulder before shooing him out of the room. As he left, Lily and Molly returned to the table. Lily pulled her plate to herself, took a bite of toast, then set about asking the children many of the same questions that her husband had.

Hermione and Ginny had just finished repeating, for the third time, that neither of them was in a relationship with Harry, when James returned. As he resumed his seat, Dumbledore stood. "As it will be some time before the others return with Harry, I believe we should use this time to put some affairs in order. Sirius, I don't mean to offend, but could I impose upon you for some rooms for our guests here?"

"Of course, Dumbledore, of course. No trouble at all. There is plenty of space, not to worry. Though…" Sirius turned to Molly, a slightly embarrassed look in his eyes. "This house hasn't been lived in for quite some time, except for my mother's old house elf, Kreacher. Some of the rooms are not exactly…. habitable. I don't think that the little toe rag has cleaned anything in years. Do you think that it would be possible that you could help me tidy up a bit, Molly?"

"Certainly, Sirius, I'd be happy to help. And so would everyone else." At this, Molly turned a steely gaze upon her children and Hermione. The young folk all sighed resignedly, before pushing their empty plates away and standing up. When James and Lily began to rise, though, Mrs. Weasley gestured for them to return to their seats. "Lily, James, please don't trouble yourselves. You've both been through a trying time and you must be exhausted. Just relax, and we'll take care of things."

"Molly, please," Lily protested, "Let us help. I'm too excited to relax right now, and I need to do something or I will drive myself into fits, worrying about Harry."

Mrs. Weasley sighed and grudgingly relented. "Very well then, come along. Arthur, you had better hurry and finish your breakfast," Molly glanced at the clock mounted on the kitchen wall, "Its nearly time for you to go to work."

"Right you are, Molly." Mr. Waesley replied, glancing down at his own watch. Wolfing down the last of his bacon, he stood and turned to the headmaster. "And what of you, Dumbledore? Planning on helping them clean?"

"As much as I would like to, Arthur, I'm afraid that I must decline. Certain matters require my attention, back at Hogwarts, and I must see to them now I am to return in time for Harry's arrival." Standing up, he bowed to the Potters and the Weasleys before accompanying Arthur to the front door.

"Alright then," Molly said brightly as her husband and the headmaster left, "We had better star if we're to have anywhere to sleep tonight." With that, she flicked her wand and conjured up several buckets, brushed, and bottles of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. Instructing her children to collect the cleaning supplies, she led the merry band of somewhat reluctant volunteers out of the kitchen and up the stairs to begin their war on the house.

Editor's note: this is the last chapter i am doing at the moment, and will not post again until Christmas Day, in which chapter, i will finally have Harry make an appearance. please read and review.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's note: sorry it took so long to post this. my muse left and i had to hunted her down, trank her, and drag her home. hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, and any and all official related material is the property of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 15

It was 10 in the evening, several hours after sunset, when ten shadows dropped out of the sky to land in a dark and empty neighborhood, as the figures climbed off their broomsticks, Mad-Eye Moody raised a silver object that looked like an oversized cigarette lighter, and began flicking it. One by one, lights began to streak from lamp posts to the put-outer, until the entire street was black as pitch. Harry groaned as he swung himself off his Firebolt, his body aching from numbness, stiffness, and all-around soreness. For the past 2 hours, he had been glued to his broom, and such positioning, for so long, tended to lend itself to a great deal of discomfort, no matter how natural flying might be to a person.

As he stretched, working the soreness out of his legs and back, and the numbness out of his fingers, Harry took a moment to reflect on what had brought to this unknown street, in this unknown city, at this time of night. Earlier that day, he had watched his aunt, uncle, and cousin pile into Uncle Vernon's new car and drive off to what they told him was the award ceremony for the All-England Best Kept Lawn Competition. Harry had been left at the house all day, alone for the first time since the end of the school term, and he had jumped on the opportunity like a hippogryph on a ferret. He broke into the cupboard beneath the stairs, seized his trunk, full of his school things, and lugged it up to his room. Once he had reached his destination, he had immediately set about to complete his summer homework. Undisturbed for hours, he was able to barrel his way through History of Magic, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology. He had been through a particularly nasty essay that Snape had assigned for Potions, when sounds downstairs set his nerves alight and his hand reaching for his wand. That sounds were coming from downstairs hadn't been what spooked him; it was that those noises weren't accompanied by the ever reliable shout of "BOY!" from his uncle. Wand raised, Harry had crept to the kitchen, fully prepared to he whomever it be that was, most likely, pilfering the silverware. It was much to his surprise to find that the intruders in his aunt's kitchen were not burglars, but rather wizards, the very people that Harry had least expected to see in the Dursley's kitchen. What had kept him from going ahead and jinxing the entire room was that he recognized two of the party as his former teachers, Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody. Calmed by the presence of these familiar faces, Harry was introduced to the rest of the ensemble, which Lupin told him was his escort. Harry had been delighted to hear that he was leaving the Dursleys, but when hi asked why he was going, when no news of his imminent departure had been provided before hand, all the party would give him were knowing smiles and vague reassurances.

Irritated at the lack of information, Harry trumped back up the stairs to his room, accompanied by the young woman he had been introduced to as Tonks, to pack away his clothes and school things. After he had packed, lugged his trunks downstairs, and pulled his broomstick from the cupboard, one of the escort had tied the trunk to their broomstick while Moody had placed Disillusionment charm on Harry to hide him from sight. Finally situated, the party of ten had taken off into the night. For hours they flew, zigzagging through the night sky, until, when Harry felt that he might risk hexing Moody if they had to fly through one more cloud bank, they began to descend over a brightly lit city.

Now on the ground, with sensation returning to his extremities, Harry looked around. The street they were on, now dark from the put-outer Moody held, was filled with older town house buildings. They were standing before two such buildings. Lupin leaned over and handed a strip of parchment to Harry. "Read it." he whispered. Harry looked down at the parchment. Written on it, in a flowing and familiar script, was The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number 12, Grimauld Place.

"Whats the Or..." Harry began.

"Sshhh!" Moody hissed vehemently.

"It will all be explained inside." Lupin whispered quietly.

Harry looked back up at the townhouse buildings. To his left, there was the number 11. To his right, the number 13. There was no number 12.

"There's no..." Harry began again.

"Quiet!" Moody snarled, irritation at the lack of stealth quite evident on his face.

"Just think about what was written on the parchment, Harry." Lupin replied.

Harry stood there and concentrated on the note that he had read. There was a grinding sound made him look up. From the seam between buildings 11 and 13, shoving its neighbors aside, another building emerged. Above its door was stamped the number 12.

"Hurry, Harry. Go on inside." Lupin gave Harry a gentle nudge. Stumbling up the stairs, Harry pushed open the door and walked inside, quickly followed the members of his escort. Once inside, Lupin held his finger to his lips and gestured for Harry to proceed down the hall. As they approached a stairway, a door opposite opened, and Mrs. Weasley stepped out.

"Oh, thank goodness, you're back. Quickly, come inside, Dumbledore's already returned. Hello

Harry, so lovely to see you." Mrs. Weasley pulled Harry into a hug. It seemed, to Harry at least, to bit tighter that usual.

When she released him, tears were in her eyes. "Ron and Hermione are upstairs. Why don't you go on up, and I'll tend to your luggage." As he stepped away, heading for the stairs, he noticed that every adult in the room, Mrs. Weasley included, was looking at him very strangely, almost smugly, as if they knew something he didn't, but greatly concerned him; it was the kind of look people had when they knew of a surprise party and were fighting their own excitement when looking at the guest of honor.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, suspicion coloring his voice.

"Nothing dear, nothing. You'll find out soon enough. Now hurry on upstairs, Ron and Hermione are waiting for you. Third door on your left." With that, she bustled the escort party into the room she had just left, following after them, leaving a very confused Harry to tramp up the stairs.

When Harry reached the door indicated by Mrs. Weasley, he found himself overwhelmed by a rush of red-headed bodies as the Weasley children hurled themselves at him. Before he could disentangle himself from the pile, Hermione Granger threw herself into the group. This fifth unexpect weight increase proved too much for Harry, and he, and the entire dog pile with him, fell backwards onto the landing. As the wind rushed out of him, Harry once again thought the level of affection being shown to him was quite a bit more than usual for the family he had come to consider his own.

_Something is up_, Harry thought as he pulled himself free and staggered to his feet, _Everyone is just a bit too happy to see me_. It had only been a couple of weeks since term had ended, and though he had missed his friends, it wasn't as if he'd never see them again. He looked down at Hermione and the Weasleys, his confusion and irritation finally boiling over.

"Hermione, Ron, just what is going on? Why does everyone look at me like they're planning my secret birthday party, or act like they haven't seen me in years? Why was I just brought from the Dursley's , UNDER ESCORT? What's going on? And will you lot stop grinning like idiots?"

the faces of the Weasleys and Hermione immediately sobered.

"Alright mate, no need to shout." Ron held up his hands placatingly. "Its just that we're real happy to see you, and we're real happy for you too."

Harry was completely baffled by this. "Ron, what are you talking about? Why would everyone be happy for me?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide, and she traded a quick, furtive look with Ron. Fred, however, failed to catch these warning glances. "Why wouldn't we be happy, Harry? I mean, its not everyday that someone gets there parents back. Have you gone to see them yet?"

Harry stared at Fred. "Fred, what do you mean, my parents are back? They're dead. They can't come back." he whispered, his voice soft, almost dangerously so.

Too late, Fred realized his blunder. Blanching, he gulped and shot a nervous glance towards his twin, before speaking, "Well...um...its just... that... well, Harry, its..." Fred was floundering under the agate hard gaze of Harry's emerald eyes. Hermione quickly stepped in to pull Harry's attention.

"Oh Harry, we're so sorry. We though Lupin might have already told you. Its just that , well Harry, they're here. They're downstairs, in the meeting. That's why Dumbledore had you brought here, so early in the summer. Your parents are alive, Harry."

Harry's face became a cold stony mask of anger and disbelief, and it was reflected in his voice. "Come off it, Hermione, do you really expect me to believe that? My parents have been dead for fourteen years. Don't you think I'd know if they were alive? Don't you think I'd be living with them, like a normal person, and not forced to spend hell with the Dursleys my entire life? Because I think so. I would love to have had my parents with me all these years, but its just not possible. They're dead, Hermoine, and the dead don't come back! They just don't!" By the end, Harry was shouting, and tears were streaming down his face. In his mind, he could the green flash as the killing curse struck down Cedric Diggory, could hear the sound of Cedric's body hitting the ground. For nights, that had been his nightmare, the death of a friend, and one of the best people he knew.

Hermione herself was crying, sobs racking her body. Ginny, her face tear streaked as well, leaned over and hugged the brunette tightly. The Weasley boys, their faces sickly pale, tied to calm Harry down.

"Harry, mate, calm down. Please, just calm down. I know its a sensitive subject for you, Harry, but we're not joshing you, mate. Its the honest to god truth, and Malfoy kiss my sister and turn me into Neville's toad if I'm lying. They are right downstairs, Harry, I swear it. Go and look for yourself if you don't believe me."

Harry stood still, staring at Ron, expression unreadable. Then he abruptly spun on his heel and tore down the stairs. "Harry... Harry, wait! What are you doing?!" Harry could hear Hermione call after him, but he ignored her, his mind completely focused on reaching the room that Mrs. Weasley and his escort had entered. Dimly, he became aware of the sound of trampling feet behind him as his friends followed him down the stairs.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry began to fell as if his body was running on autopilot, pure instinct or maybe by rout, like he had no control over his own actions and could only observe. In this numb state of mind, he raised his hand before the door to the room he sought, and began to hammer on it. Before his fist even made contact with the dark wood paneling, the knob clicked as it turned, and Albus Dumbledore was standing in the threshold, smiling down at the young man. "Why hello Harry, how are you this evening?" The headmaster's tone was calm and casual, as if this was just another day at school, and they were meeting by chance at the bend in a castle corridor. The old wizard's eyes were twinkling with a deep seated inner amusement, and this, more than anything, brought Harry back into the driver's seat of his life.

Harry looked up into Dumbledore's eyes, then asked in a soft voice, "Professor, is it true?"

The smile faded from Dumbledore's face, and his expression became somber, though the twinkle never left his eyes. "Ah, I see your friends have informed you of our guests. I would have preferred that either Sirius, Remus, Arthur, or myself told you, once you had settled in upstairs, but it seems that your friends have already taken the matter out of my hands." The headmaster's gaze swept past Harry to where Hermione and the Weasleys were gathered at the foot of the stairs. Ron and his brothers gulped while the girls both blushed with embarrasment. Dumbledore returned his eyes to Harry. "To answer your question Harry; yes, it is true." The old man sighed, stepped into the hallway, and shut the door behind him.

"Your parents are alive, Harry, and they are right through this door. But before you go in there, I need to talk to you. You need to understand, Harry, that they have been through quite a lot in the past 48 hours. They are still a bit confused by what is going on, by what has changed since their deaths, fourteen years ago. They are not even sure how or why they can be alive right now. The last thing that they remember is putting a one-year old baby Harry to bed in his crib, the night that they died. Then they wake up, upon their own graves, to find that not only have they aged by a decade's worth of time, but their entire world has changed. They are lost, Harry, and the only thing that they have been able to think about, is you. When you go through that door, try and remember that."

Dumbledore stepped back from Harry, away from the door. Harry stepped up, took hold of the knob, turned it, and pushed the open the door. As it swung forward, Harry was greeted by complete silence. The room was large and dark. From the only lights, which appeared to be a low burning fire in the grate on the wall, and several candles standing on the only table in the room, he could see that the room was a kitchen. People were either seated at the table, or standing around it. Everyone was staring at him, expressions nervous. Most of the people recognized, either from his guard, or from prior meetings. Harry immediately recognized Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, his godfather Sirius, Remus Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, and several others from his escort.

Then Harry heard a gasp, followed by a muffled sob. His eyes once again swept the assembly, and quickly focused on two people, near the head of the table, that he had never seen before. Yet, even as he focused his attention on these strangers, noticed something very strange. Though he could have sworn he had never seen these people before, he realized that they were familiar to him, achingly so. It was if his body, or his heart, or maybe even his so recognized them when his mind did not. As the couple rose to their feet, he noticed other things.

The man, who looked to be about Sirius's and Remus's age, maybe a few years younger (it was hard to tell, since the burdens of their lives had aged the two men beyond their years), wore glasses, and had an untidy mop of black hair. The woman, also of a similar age, had rich red hair, slightly darker than that of the Weasleys, and eyes as green as fresh cut emeralds. _You look just like your father, but you have your mother's eyes_. Almost everyone Harry had met since joining the Wizarding World had told him that. And now it raced over and over again through his mind, as deep in his heart, Harry realized that he _did_ know these people; had, in fact, known them all his life. He had seen their faces in the Mirror of Erised four years ago, saw them every time he opened the photo album the Hagrid had given him. He had heard their voices in the graveyard earlier that month, and every time a dementor came close to him. He could feel their touch in hie dreams.

His body shaking like a man in seizure, Harry fell to his knees, tears pouring like rain down his face. With a voice that was raw and cracked with emotion, Harry whispered the two words the would forever change his life. "Mum? Dad?" With a sobbing cry, Lily and James Potter hurled themselves around the table to embrace their son.

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